


Meant For Each Other

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Dark, Dark Mycroft Holmes, Dark Sherlock, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smut, Sociopathic Mycroft, Sociopathic Sherlock, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: Sherlock needs money. Mycroft confesses something. They make a plan.





	Meant For Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is a strange story :) But perhaps one or two of you will like it anyway :)

He didn’t even knock. He never did. Anthea knew it didn't work to stop him.

“Brother!”

“Sherlock…” Mycroft plastered a false smile onto his face. It was harder than usual… “What can I do for you?” He was in the middle of working on a MI5 report. But of course that wouldn’t bother Sherlock.

The detective threw himself onto the visitor's chair. “I need money.”

“Now that's something new.”

“Spare me your sarcasm. Five-hundred should be sufficient until the end of the month.”

“No.”

Sherlock was all narrowed eyes and threatening voice. “What do you mean – no?”

Mycroft sighed. “I can give you the money but…” He leaned back in his chair. It was hard to admit but one day his little brother would find out anyway. One day in the very near future. “That's about it then. I'm bankrupt.”

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” Sherlock leaned forward and with his sparkling green eyes he looked like a big cat ready to jump at its prey.

Mycroft wasn’t intimidated. “Would you watch your language, please?”

“Fuck my language! You're richer than the Queen! There are our trusts from Uncle Rudy!” Sherlock smashed one big hand on the desk.

“I was quite wealthy, yes. But… I'm also very busy and…” He didn’t finish the sentence but shrugged.

“Oh, I see! You let someone else handle your money and now it's gone?! All of it?! My trust as well?”

“Yes. I'm afraid it is. Believe me I took care of this person but unfortunately that didn’t bring me the money back. I do still have my job of course but I also have expenses. And yes, I could sell my house and my golden watch but what shall I do then? I'm used to a certain life style. I can't live in a tiny flat and I doubt I'll find a flatmate…”

“But we'll have to do something!”

Mycroft nodded. “I agree. But so far, I didn’t have a brilliant idea.”

“Our parents! They are rich!”

Mycroft sighed again. “You know what they say, Sherlock: 'earn your own money'.”

“But when they die…”

“… we'll get everything, yes. But even though they are nearly eighty, I doubt they will do us the favour of biting the dust so conveniently soon, little brother.”

Sherlock tilted his head.

Mycroft backed away, almost shocked. “No! What do you want to do – poison their tea?”

Sherlock smiled. It looked rather scary and Mycroft briefly mused if John Watson or this pathetic little pathologist who was so in love with his brother had ever seen such an expression on his face. Probably not. Sherlock was great at wearing masks. He never did towards Mycroft though.

His deep voice sounded as casual as if he was talking about the weather when he spoke. “Not quite. It has to look like a natural course so it should better be one. They both have some heart problems, haven't they?”

“Who doesn't in this age. But so far, their tickers are still working quite well.”

“Yes. We could visit them. This weekend! They'll be pleased.”

Mycroft rested his elbows on the desk. “And then what?”

Sherlock smiled again and it was sunny and deadly. “Then, big brother, we'll surprise them!”

“I'm all ears.”

*****

“Oh, come in, come in. Sherlock, you look good! New coat?”

Sherlock smiled at her and Mycroft admired him silently. He pulled off that 'nice-son' behaviour so convincingly.

“No, Mummy, but I look after my clothes.”

Mycroft refrained from rolling his eyes when he entered their parents' house. He shut the door behind him and greeted his mother and father. When they had stored their travel bags in the hallway, they joined the elder Holmes in the living room where tea and cake were waiting for them.

“Sit down, come on, you must be tired from the long ride.”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “We'll do but before… we'll have to tell you something.”

Sherlock lined up next to him. “Yes, something important.”

“Oh, what is it?” Mummy beamed at them.

“Well, something really nice.” Mycroft took a deep breath and slung his arm around Sherlock's shoulder and tried not to wince when his brother embraced his waist and snuggled against him.

Mummy and Father smiled expectantly.

“We...”

“We are together now!” Sherlock burst out and Mycroft was grateful that he had said it.

“Oh, you're sharing Mycroft's house now? That's nice!”

God, how explicit did they have to get?

“No, Mummy. We share a _bed_ now.” Sherlock pinched Mycroft's arse and now he did wince. They couldn’t even see that!

There was silence. The old people looked… strange but not as if they were about to drop dead. Sherlock seemed to think the same because he grabbed Mycroft's chin and kissed him.

Before he could even react or think or feel anything, Mummy screamed so loudly that he feared for his ears and he and Sherlock parted at once to see their parents' faces – and they were masks of… delight.

“Oh my God!”

“Yes, you finally realised it!” Father laughed and clapped his hands. “Wonderful!”

“Oh we thought already that we had to tell you but now you got it yourself! Oh please, just kiss again!”

Mycroft briefly closed his eyes, and then he turned to Sherlock who met his gaze, his full lips forming an 'o'.

This had not been the plan.

Mycroft turned to their parents again to do the only thing he could think of now – telling them it had been a joke but then his face was grabbed once more and a tongue pushed into his mouth seconds later, and he kissed Sherlock back, which made Mummy and Father go into loud raptures again.

His brother certainly had made a new plan? He was not kissing him just because he wanted to?

Mycroft finally pulled away, his lips numb, the taste of Sherlock's spit in his mouth – a conglomerate of coffee, cigarettes and the sandwich he had eaten on the way, along with his own taste. Not unpleasant but… God…

Father was all smiles. “We're so happy for you, boys! You're so meant for each other!”

“You… don't mind?” Mycroft knew he was stating the obvious but how the hell could that be?!

“Of course not! Nobody could ever be good enough for either of you except for the other one!” Mummy chirped. “So, in which room will you sleep tonight?”

“Um, doesn't matter.”

“As long as it's in the same bed, right, son?” Father winked and nudged him with his elbow.

This was a bloody nightmare.

*****

Sherlock closed the door behind them. “Well…”

“'Well'? This is all you've got to say to this?!”

They had endured cake and tea and a conversation about their fictional love life. They had had dinner with the same subject. Mycroft had even asked about the well-being of their cousins and _how's-the-garden_ just to change the subject.

The detective shrugged. “It was a good plan. Who could have known our parents are totally insane.” He took off his shirt.

He had to give him that. “And now what? Burn the house down? Asphyxiate them in their sleep? Have sex so loudly that it does shock them?”

“Oh! Last one!”

“Very funny…”

Sherlock got rid of his trousers.

Mycroft made a step back. “Sherlock…”

“What? Didn’t you like the kiss?”

“Oh, I see what you are doing!” Mycroft pointed at him with an embarrassingly shaking finger.

Sherlock grimaced. “What am I doing then?”

“We failed at killing our parents by shocking them with incest, and now you try to kill me with…” He broke off.

Sherlock tutted. “Kill you with what? Sex? It might surprise you, brother, but people – other people than we – do that all the time and don't die! You don't have any heart problems as far as I know! I'm not convinced you even have a heart!”

“You… You'll take a pillow and…”

“Oh right. It's not that you are taller than me and used to work out. And by the way – what apart from your house and your suits and your bloody golden watch do I have to gain with killing you? You are bankrupt as you told me!”

“Then why the hell are you suggesting it?!”

“Because I want to!”

Mycroft shut his mouth. What was there to say to that? Except for, “Why me? You can have everybody! Look at you!”

Sherlock, only wearing black pants now, stepped closer. “So you do find me attractive?”

Funny question from a man who could have been a cover model for every damn women's or gay's magazine on the planet. “Well, I'm not blind! Of course I find you attractive. But so must all the others do! Watson and Lestrade and this Hooper-woman just to name the obvious.”

Sherlock snorted. “And why would I have any interest in them? You know what – Mummy was right! It's the other one or nobody at all.”

“So you seriously suggest we should have sex?”

“How hard can it be? Even the stupidest people on earth know how to fuck.”

Mycroft winced at this last word. It made him tingle… down there. How embarrassing!

Sherlock had noticed it. Of course he had. He closed the last distance between them. “Does that turn you on? When I say _fuck_?”

“Don't be such a damn cliché!”

“Clichés exist for a reason, brother dear. And now fuck me on your childhood bed. Show me how it is. You know I've never done it before. But you have, right?”

“Well, yes. Not that often though.” Mycroft winced when Sherlock started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Well, then we'll make me an ex-virgin and give you some practice now.”

His brother was beautiful – no doubt about it. And his voice… Mycroft's head moved forward by itself, searching for a kiss that was granted at once. Two big hands were opening his trousers after he had let his shirt slide off his shoulders, and then they were pushed down to his ankles.

“We'll need something,” he said after pulling away, trying not to stumble. “I can't just push into you dry.”

“Oh, I'll ask Mummy for some balm.” Sherlock grabbed Mycroft's robe from a chair.

Mycroft huffed out a laugh. “I believe that in a second.”

“I'm sure she'll give me some.” Sherlock stood still. “There's another trust, isn't there? From Grand-Aunt Sherinda?”

“Yes! But Mummy said…”

“…we'll only get that when we get married…”

“We can't marry each other, Sherlock!”

Sherlock grabbed his arm, his eyes bright with excitement. “Exactly! But I'll move in with you and we'll need money for that, and we might want to have a vacation together…”

“Brilliant!”

“That's what they call me! Okay, I'll talk to her and then we'll see if we have something to celebrate or just fuck for fun.”

Mycroft nodded. “And if it doesn't work, I'll try it again tomorrow.”

“Good! But I'm rather sure it will work.”

*****

When Sherlock returned, Mycroft saw at once that their problems were passé.

“No!”

“Yes! _She_ offered it when I told her about our expenses and plans…” With a wide smile, Sherlock slipped off the robe.

“You're such a nasty little manipulator!”

“That's what I am…” Sherlock removed his pants and Mycroft shuddered. His brother was well hung and smooth and hot…

He bent his head with a little whimper when Sherlock started nibbling at his throat.

“Of course they'll want to visit us and expect some post cards from our vacation…”

“So you'll really have to move in with me and we'll have to go somewhere nice…”

“Yes,” Sherlock purred next to his ear.

“But we can't spend all the money on that or we'll be in the same situation again very soon.”

“No, we won't. It will not cost a lot. I don't have much furniture and John will help me moving the stuff, and I bet you know someone in this beautiful world who has a house in a nice spot where they'll let us stay in for a while.”

“I surely do.” Mycroft grabbed the balm after getting rid of his own pants. “And now turn around so I can fuck my delectable negotiator.”

“He's all yours…” Sherlock got on all fours on the not overly big bed and presented his plush arse.

A few minutes and some rather rough preparation later, Sherlock's moans echoed through the entire house and Mycroft wondered if their parents were listening with big smiles on their faces and tears of joy in their eyes in their bedroom on the ground floor. Somehow this thought turned him on even more than he already was by pushing into the best piece of arse he'd ever had.

Their parents would never find out that this had been a ruse, meant to kill them off.

And in the end it had worked out well.

And damn – nothing could feel better than pounding his brother's bum. Except for perhaps… “Will you suck me off, too?” he hissed, his hands boring into the plush cheeks, his hips performing a murderous pace.

“Oh, yes, you can feed me your monster cock anytime,” Sherlock panted. His back was sweaty and his curls were bouncing at every hard thrust.

“It's really nice to be bankrupt,” Mycroft hissed, feeling his balls tightening.

“Yes, who would have thought! And now fuck me really hard! Make them fall out of their bed!”

“Not a problem, brother mine.”

The End

 

 

 


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